


Compromised - Merry Christmas

by AmazonX



Series: Compromised [6]
Category: The X-Files
Genre: Holidays, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-12-23
Updated: 2002-12-23
Packaged: 2018-11-20 05:27:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11329488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmazonX/pseuds/AmazonX
Summary: Merry Christmas, what good can you do this year?





	Compromised - Merry Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Basement](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Basement), which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Basement's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thebasement/profile).

 

Compromised - Merry Christmas

### Compromised - Merry Christmas

#### by Amazon X

Title: Compromised - Merry Christmas 

Author: Amazon X 

E-mail: 

Website: http://Yankeestarbuck.tripod.com 

Feedback: Well, duh! 

Category: Slash, holiday fic 

Rating: NC-17 for M/M sexual situations 

Summary: Merry Christmas, what good can you do this year? 

Archive: Anywhere, just ask and tell me where it's going. 

Disclaimer: If I could make money on this, I wouldn't sweat the AmEx bill each month, now would I? 

Author's Notes: This one hurt. Yeah, the holidays have been hard for me. For those of you who don't know, I went through a pretty annoying surgery this season and it put me out of commission for a while. Sitting to write was not easy. Thankfully, I made a great recovery and am doing fine. The various fandoms (Alex, Walter and Gunmen) were a blessing and more support than you ladies and gentlemen will ever know. This is the last holiday fic for this series for a while, I think. The next parts will be added stories. But that won't be for a while. Other babies await my finger. Thank you most of all to Erynn, my beta. She was also not well for a while and I'm glad she's doing better. I hope I can be as helpful to her as she is to me. Blessings to you, bestest Bosslady of Lurve! 

* * *

**BLUE RIDGE MOUNTAINS**  
**MANASSAS, VIRGINIA**

In the near year I've been living up here with Walter, I've woken up a dozen different ways. Sometimes Bosco drinks a little too much water the night before. Summer thunderstorms can shake the house. The wind up here whips past us rattling the windows, showing me how powerful Mother Nature really is. But I think my favorite way is how I wake this morning, with Walter moving in me, fucking me gently, stroking my cock, and me, awake. 

We lay spooned on our sides and he has his left arm tucked under me to hold me tightly. His other arm, draped on my hip, moves with his strokes. His calloused hands are always welcome on me, but he hated chafing me. Sometimes, it's just what I need. I move against him, letting him know I'm awake. He thrusts harder. His hand moves faster on my cock and we're in total sync. We come quickly and lay together, trying to breath normal again. I turn my head to kiss him. Morning mouth and all, he's delicious. 

"Good morning, dear," I say when I pull free. 

"Good morning, darling," he says back, then slaps my ass. "Time to rise and shine. We have a big day ahead of us." 

I sit up as he slides out of the bed and pads to the bathroom. "What the hell are we doing again today?" 

The toilet flushes. That's my romantic man. While he starts the shower I try to decide whether I should leave it or flush and annoy him. My man is way ahead of me. "I'll step back, flush." 

Smiling, I follow his instructions then join him in the shower. We just hold each other a few moments. Warm water cascades on our bodies as we stand there. I rub my nose on his. "You're cuddly today." 

"Yeah, well, my ass hurts, I need some comfort." His laughter fills the room and it echoes off the tile. He kisses me again and we continue our shower. When we're done, we stand side by side at our own sinks, brushing our teeth and shaving. Well, he shaves around his goatee. I've let him grow it in, I think he looks nice with it. We dress quickly, and warmly for the sudden cold snap. Well, I indulge him in dressing warm, with a silk thermal shirt and pants under my jeans and sweater. 

I love Walter, honestly I do. There's no way I couldn't. Every day I see little things about him that make him more special to me. His little intricacies aren't getting on my nerves, they're endearing him to me. It's little things, like, he firmly closes the bathroom door when he's going to be a while. Yeah, that's right, I've never seen my king on the throne. You'd think living together we'd just walk in on each other. Hell, I fuck him in that hole. But I don't argue, I just knock. And I close it too, since the time I left it open and he yelled so loud Bosco ran for cover. That's my Walter. He's just gotta understand, I'm Russian and we're bred for the cold. If I keep moving, I'm fine. 

"Hey, get your ass in gear, we're getting decorations today!" he yells from the front closet. He thinks everyone feels cold the way he does, and hands me my down parka. Nope, hardheaded. And the kicker is, he's half-Russian. 

We get in the Hummer, which has more room for the decorations he wants to get, and head down to shop for Christmas. We're helping at the Manassas County Family Placement Center on Christmas morning giving out toys and making breakfast for the homeless families in the shelter. The Mulders are going to Maggie's place, and I'm not up for the dirty looks from her brother Bill. He hates Mulder, and hates us more. Fuck him. Well, unfuck him. He doesn't deserve a good fuck wasted on him. 

I wanted to go to the Gunmen's place, but Frohike's away with his sons and Langly took Byers to see his Mom. Since his dad passed away, Langly got real close to his mom who loves him very much. His sisters will be there too, but his brother is still boycotting the "fags". Patty is going with Shaine and Jason to Shaine's mom's house. So, we're on our own this year. I like that. 

* * *

**MANASSAS, VIRGINIA**

This is the first Christmas I'm going to enjoy in about two decades. My first with my Alex. My Sasha. My lover. My God I'm a sap! 

I got the idea when I was looking for Bosco behind the house one day and saw a whole copse of Fraser fir trees down past the stream. I saw a nice one ready for cutting, full and not too tall for the cabin. The ceilings are a little high, like an apartment, but not as high as a house, maybe nine feet. This was about seven, I'd say. It looked perfect. 

It's had been a long time since I'd had a real Christmas tree in my house. Sharon didn't like cleaning the needles from the carpet. And I didn't like having to haul it to the dump every year after new years. Here, we can just cut it up for firewood. Actually, I like the smell of burning fir needles. This Christmas is going to be a pleasure. 

I have to make excuses to Alex to stop by the craft store. I know he's looking at me oddly, but I wanted to make an ornament for our tree out of wood. For our first Christmas together. OK, yes, I'm officially sappy. 

When I get back to the waiting Hummer, he's just looking out at the highway that bypasses the shopping center we were in. He doesn't look at me as he pulls out and drives us back home. His smile is unmistakable. 

"What?" This had better be good, too. 

"I think it's cute you wanna make ornaments. Very summer camp of you." He snickers and clears his throat to clear his expression. That bastard just ignores me as he drives back home. I reach over and put my hand on his thigh. He glances down at it. "You know, I've had road head and been perfectly fine. You're the one who swerves all over the road if I even lean near you." 

I pull away. He's not going to get me to blow him in the car. No way, no how. Artie and Stuart see that and we'll get the chair. I'll wait until we get home. Then I'll tackle him in the living room. 

* * *

My sated lover lies on the couch, having been sucked within an inch of his life. I love making love to him, even if I'm on my knees, his cock down my throat and stroking myself. Yes, I constantly have to clean the wood floor, and thankfully we'd refinished it with seven coats of polyurethane, but I wouldn't give up making love to Alex for anything. 

As he dozes on the couch, I go out to the work shed to get my saw. I'm getting the tree while Alex is sleeping and I'll surprise him with it when I get back. The trees are tall and full, not the sparse crap they sell in town. I would give these trees away, but I don't think folks would take them from us. The trunk is thicker than I thought it would be but not too thick. It's quite manageable. I begin sawing and I can feel the scars on my skin, and in my belly, start to pull as I work the saw. Fuck all, this isn't supposed to happen. I've gotten my sex drive back, I've started working out again, gently, but I'm trying and I'm not using anything for pain, not even aspirin. This shouldn't be happening. 

I stop sawing. I'm barely through a trunk that's six inches in diameter. This isn't going to work. Sighing heavily I know I'll have to go back and get Alex. And I wanted this to be a damn surprise. He would have been thrilled. 

"What the hell are you doing, Walter?" I spin and drop the saw a few feet from me at the sound of his voice. He's leaning against a tree, arms crossed over his chest, smirking. He looks like a god. His hair has grown in, from that short Nero-style cut he'd had that was always finger-combed forward with the front spiked up, full of pomade. But he's let it grow in and it flops over his forehead into his eyes. The back brushes his collar and below. He looks like he's a young punk, waiting for a fight. Only in my heart, I know he's waiting to help me. 

He walks toward me and scoops up the saw. "The tree looks great. You chose well. I'll saw, you hold it still. Then it won't fall and break branches. We'll carry it together. Together." 

He seals our cooperation with a kiss and kneels to start sawing where I left off. I hold the tree by the top and swiftly, he makes it through the rest of the trunk. He hangs the saw on his left shoulder and hoists the tree onto his right. I hold the small end and together we walk the few hundred yards to the house. Bosco waits on the porch barking. 

Setting up the tree isn't as hard as it could be. I've got a very sturdy base that will hold enough water to keep the tree from drying out completely. Alex has never done this apparently, so I have him hold the tree while I adjust the base. He hands me the water pitcher and I fill the base. He's amazed at how I planned ahead, and how I know what to do. 

"Alex, I've done this before you know. A lot. When I was a kid. Mom had wood floors, too." 

He looks at the floor a moment, not wanting to meet my eyes. Hooking a finger under his chin, I raise his face to meet my eyes. He smirks at me. I kiss him again and send him for the bags of decorations. He walks back in the living room, kicks off his boots and says, "Do you know how to do all this, Walter? I mean, some trees look amazing, and not for nothing, you're great with wood. But I don't think we're the tree-decorating kinda fags." 

"Will you stop that!" I shouted, a box of string lights in my hands. "I am not a fag, or a queer or a homo or a fairy or whatever the fuck you like to joke about. We're lovers. Period. Stop baiting me." Sometimes it's funny, and sometimes it's just hurtful. I love him, and I don't care to be called the horrible things other folks call us because we love each other. 

I take one strand of lights and begin winding them around from the top. He watches in rapt fascination; my tongue-lashing seeming to have rolled off his back like water off a duck. "Why lights first?" 

I smile. "The lights are hidden under the ornaments and garland. The ornaments are pretty boring, balls, angels, and some animals. I really didn't know what to get. I figure, in time, we'll form a collection." 

* * *

In time? He says we'll form a collection in time. Holy shit. I can't...I don't...I mean, I didn't know we were really going to celebrate Christmas. I didn't get him anything. We only have like three days. "Well, close your mouth and get over here. We have three more strings to get around this puppy!" I shake my head and reach behind the tree where he's holding the lights for me to bring around. We have the tree in the far corner between the window seat by the front door and the door to the den. It's as far away from the fireplace as you can get without impeding the doorways to the bedroom or the bathroom. Those are on the opposite side of the front door. 

He's picked the perfect spot for it. He knows everything. There's even a heavy-duty outlet there, one I put in myself. I didn't think about it when he asked me to put it in. He plugs in another string of lights and we wind it around further. He's precise and careful and he amazes me. It's like when he carves little animals. He can manipulate things much more adeptly than I ever could. 

"Alex, start taking the balls from the boxes and putting the hangers on them," he said, as I stood watching him plug the lights into the socket. It's beautiful. As the lights shine, all the primary colors, I can feel a tear sting my eye. I blink rapidly to disperse the water. I'm not gonna fucking cry over a damn Christmas tree. There are all these colored balls that I start handing him. Who knew they made little wire curls just to hang ornaments on trees? 

I watch as he steps back a few times to survey the whole tree. I must admit, he knows how to disperse the colors evenly. When I hand him the last ball, he reaches into the bag again and pulls out these packages of string garland. It looks like short gold tinsel, and I wonder why he hasn't just gotten the individual kind that you have to drape on each limb. "Hey, why didn't you get the other kind of tinsel?" 

"The kind you have to vacuum up all the time? The kind that Bosco will eat and get sick on? That kind?" The look on his face is priceless, like a scolding mother. Somehow, I don't think he'd find it funny if Bosco took a shiny shit. He winds it around the tree and it does look nice. I just sit back on the floor, with a lazy dog's head in my lap and we watch Walter make the last minute adjustments on things. Two balls are too close together and that needs to be rectified. Two horses can't be on the same side of the tree. The angels should be boy-boy, girl-girl. 

Then he looks at me, a soft smile ghosting his lips. There's one last box in his bag of tricks. He pulls it out and opens it, but I can't quite see it from where I sit on the floor. 

"I need you for something," he says, holding his hand out to help me stand. I don't move. 

"Bosco's comfy here. Why me?" The whine in my voice could have been Mulder's own. 

"This is special. The dog will understand." So, with a yelp of displeasure, I unseat my boy and stand up and see what my lover has for me. It's the star for the top. Now, I know I can't stop the tears welling in my eyes. Thankfully, his eyes are just as wet. 

"Wha...what do I do?" My hands are shaking as he hands me the piece of plastic, glitter and glass. It has lights on it, and it's so hokey looking, but it's ours. 

"You just stick it on top of the tree. Then plug it in to the string of lights. See? They all are extensions for each other." I see that he's right and marvel at the ingenious way Christmas tree lights are made. These people think of everything. 

The star blinks to life and it starts going on and off. My face falls and I sigh heavily. "Well, for fuck's sake, it's broken." 

I'm not prepared for the laughter. He's really guffawing over there. That bastard, he's laughing at me. I didn't mean to break it. There's some guilt and fear making its way out of a place in me that I haven't visited in a long time. Somewhere inside me, I can feel a cold breeze blow on my bare legs as I stare down a hall that smells like medicine and death, and I hear a little girl crying and my feet are cold on the linoleum tile and I know I should have told the truth and she's getting my punishment for breaking the beaker of fluid... 

"Alex!" He's holding my shoulders, shaking me gently. Bosco barks for good measure, growling because he's confused. I look up at Walter. My cheeks are wet. "Alex, where were you? You spaced out. Did you hear what I said?" 

"Um, no, sorry, I was thinking of something else. Old ghosts. What did you say?" A big hand swipes the tears from my cheeks. 

"I said, the star is supposed to blink. All the lights will. I need to put the blinking bulb in the strings. What were you thinking?" 

"That I had broken it. Sorry. Stupid, huh?" Big strong arms come about me and kisses cover my face. 

"You are so sweet, you know that?" 

"Fuck you." My look to him is so evil, the phrase "hairy eyeball" barely covers it. 

"I thought you'd never ask," he croons, but I push him away. He's joking with me. While I watch, he replaces some of the bulbs in the strings and they began to blink. It's one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen. "Alex, you mean, you've never seen Christmas trees in stores, other people's homes, on television? Seriously? You _must_ have seen one somewhere." 

"I never paid attention. I was always working, or...I just didn't notice." I can't do this, not right now. I walk away from him and into the kitchen to get a beer. The Labatts tastes great. It helps, takes the sour taste from my mouth after thinking about all that shit. He follows me and just leans against the counter, watching and waiting. I hand him the beer to finish it, which he does. 

He chucks the bottle and says, "Christmas is in three days. What are we doing for dinner that night? And Christmas eve, too, what are we doing that night? Lots of plans to make. I can't have you flaking out on me." 

"Fuck off, Walter," I say, trying to keep in brooding character. I can't, of course, and I smile at him. He smiles back and we return to the living room. Then I get a cool idea. "Hey, help me with the couch." He gives me a look like Bosco gives me when he's not sure why we're connected at odd angles, then it hits him. With a few grunts and groans, not unlike when we fuck, we have the couch in a whole new position. It's now facing between the tree and the hearth. We could be warm and able to watch the lights. I am in way over my head. 

* * *

**NEIMAN MARCUS**  
**LATE MORNING**

As I walk through the store full of shoppers, I feel overwhelmed. I've never had a panic attack. I'm not agoraphobic, but this place is giving me the shakes. Women and men and children and clerks and managers are running around and I don't know where to start. Stopped in my tracks and staring like a deer in headlights, I don't dare move. If I move, I'll pass right out. 

"Sir, are you ok? Do you need assistance?" The voice is quiet and polite. I turn and I see an angel in a red blouse. She's smiling, red lipstick to match her blouse. Red nails, too. "I'm a personal shopper. My name is Kelly. Is there something I can help you with?" 

A deep cleansing breath and I say, "I'm looking for a gift for someone. Well, a lot of gifts. I've never done this before." 

"Really? Wife always handled gifts? I can help you. Who is the lucky recipient of all your attention?" 

How the fuck do I put this? I'm not anywhere near home. I drove for almost two hours north into Maryland to do this shopping. No one here knows me and Walter. And I came to this place to be assured I got him the best. Here goes nothing. "He's a good friend." 

"Oh, have you known him a long time? Then this should be easy. How about we go up to the salon, we'll sit and have a latte and you can tell me about him. Then we can best put together a gift ensemble? Yes?" 

Well, I guess it can't hurt. I nod assent and she holds out her hand for me to take. Oh, shit, she's hitting on me. After winding her arm around mine and pulling me close, she begins telling me about the better clothing lines, names of designers flying past me. In the "salon", I just sit and sip coffee and nod dumbly at her as she formulates a gift theme. It wasn't Walter, though. Maybe in the days when he was an assistant director still looking to make deputy. 

"Now, do you know what size he wears? I hope you do. Men don't usually know what size clothes their friends wear like women do, so I usually ask them to describe a sports figure and I look that man up. That approximation system usually works well for men. May I ask, is this a man who is in a position to promote you at work? Or network you in some way that you are willing to go to such lengths?" 

Here we go. Either I out myself, or I lie. With a deep breath, I try to think of something as close to the truth as I can muster. "Walter is a very old friend of mine. We go back close to two decades. He's a good person and I want to spoil him a little. Lord knows he won't do it for himself." 

The smile splits her face. Now that I'm calm, I take a good look at her. Her make up is heavy, but professionally done. She's meant to look calming, pleasant, and peaceful. I'm sure when her skin is freshly scrubbed, she looks like the girl next door, plain and pretty. Her blouse is silk, but shows the wear of at least weekly washing and frequent wearing. Her skirt is well worn, dry cleaned over and over. Her shoes are inexpensive-looking, but comfortable. She's just another woman trying to make her way. But her hand that covers mine isn't a subtle hint. 

It's Christmas, and I know people expect the best from you. I turn my hand in hers and clasp her hand gently. She winks at me and asks, "Are you married, Mr. Krycek?" 

"No, not yet." 

"Well, the ladies of the community must be enraptured by your heavenly eyes, if I may say so." She's looking straight at me. Should I? Should I? 

"Not as many as you would think, I assure you." 

She leans closer to me and asks, "Can we talk more about this over coffee some time? Or dinner perhaps?" 

Here goes the rest of it. "Kelly, the man I'm getting these gifts for is...uhm..." 

"Your lover, isn't he?" Her voice is quiet and calm, and she's still smiling, holding my hand and leaning near me. 

I can feel the blush in my cheeks and I drop my head. God in heaven, where has all this civility and modesty come from? Have I been out of battle so long that I'm a regular person? Am I finally...normal? Fuck all, when Christmas is over, I'm hunting something. 

"Yes, Kelly, he's my lover. And you can call me Alex. I'm sorry to have tricked you..." 

"Oh, Alex, if you knew how many men I've helped pick their husband's clothes, you'd stop your stammering. It IS legal, you know, even if you think you should feel some form of stigma for it. Now that I know that, and you DO know his size, I presume, what is your budget like?" 

I smile widely and squeeze her hand gently. This is going to be fun. 

* * *

Alex has been gone for quite a while. I'm starting to get worried as the sun goes down. He lit out of here early and fast, no word to where he went. Well, I can kinda guess where he went. Neither of us is religious, and celebrating Christmas for me was done more for family than anything else. He's never even had a Christmas. But this year, I want to make a real home Christmas, like when I was a boy. I can't make the same mistakes I made before. 

I use the time constructively, and drive to the cemetery to see Sharon. The sun is high in the late morning sky and I get a lovely arrangement of flowers for her. I pull a few stubborn weeds and brush some dirt from the foot of her headstone. I had it made from pink marble in the shape of a heart. My grave next to her was sold, though. So I just visit her lonely stone, next to another man, not me. 

Sharon Skinner, beloved wife, taken before her time, 1960-1996. It's simple, but it's what I wanted. Her family was pleased with the stone, with its beautiful lilies carved in it. I spent almost three thousand dollars on it. The funeral, including the pearl white casket, was fifteen thousand. It was a small price to pay. Her family was impressed with the affair, but I didn't care at the time. All I knew was that my careless choices to "get ahead, get promoted" cost her life. 

Enough of that. I lay the bouquet of white freesia across the bed of grass and look down at the headstone. "Sharon, I love him. I know you see us together. Let him know that I want him to be with me always. OK, I'm gonna go home now. I love you." 

And I leave. I always tell her I love her. I always will. 

When I get home, Bosco greets me with a big hug and a wet tongue on my cheek. Alex isn't home yet. So we go on the house and I begin dinner. I was planning on twice baked potatoes and they take time. So I start those. I think I'll make ham steaks, too. What a boring life we live. 

By the time Alex is home, it's been dark an hour and I'm almost done cooking. He hangs his coat and walks in to me in the kitchen. "Hi, handsome, how was your day?" he beams to me. He is precious. He kisses me, deeper than just a hello after a long day away from me. He does that, sometimes going to other towns for contracting work. He still does electrical work and is involved with a security company to install systems. We don't need the money, but God knows we need the work, to keep busy. 

"You look like you had a day. Busy?" I'm trying not to sound like a father, but I don't want to sound like a jealous wife. I'm not very good at this. 

"Oh, did some things, went some places. Were you worried?" He turns to me from in front of the fridge, beer in hand. 

"No, I was just curious. You took off so early." I go back to my ham steaks, which are almost done. He leans over me and inhales deeply. 

"Those smell great. Hey, I had my phone on, you could have called at any time. I wasn't doing any..." 

"I know," I cut him off. "I didn't accuse. I know you wouldn't...go wash for dinner." I give him a little smile and he smiles back. My lover wasn't cheating on me. He isn't like that. He was brought back as a reward for helping save the planet, and the universe. He then almost died to get back to me. He wouldn't mess it up on a fling. Besides, I took care of him this morning. Yesterday I woke him fucking, today I woke him sucking. He has nothing to complain about. 

We sit down to dinner and the rest of the night is very quiet. 

* * *

**CHIRSTMAS EVE**  
**EARLY AFTERNOON**

I hear the phone ringing in the house, but I know Alex is there to get it. I'm in the work shed, turning a table leg for someone. They didn't need it for Christmas, but I want to get a coat of stain on this tonight. About an hour later, after I have the table locked in the braces, and while the wood glue dries, a delivery truck arrives. We NEVER get deliveries up here so this is a mystery. Alex meets the deliverymen and signs the receipt while boxes are put on the porch. 

I walk over as the truck pulls away to watch him cut the first box open with his pocket knife. He pulls a large box, one that would contain clothing, from the larger one. It's wrapped very smartly, with silvery green paper and a red ribbon strung around it. He smiles at me. 

"What's all this, Alex?" I ask, indicating the two still-sealed boxes matching the open one. 

"This is all yours." He starts moving the large boxes in the house and near the tree. He starts arranging them under the tree on the red velvet skirt I've laid out to hide the tree base. All three boxes are emptied and he's done a lovely job arranging the presents under the tree. Then again, we've been watching every Christmas movie and TV show on this season. He's particularly interested in the Grinch and Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer. I've gotten him the DVDs for his stocking. He seems quite interested in mine. They're laying by the tree, since the hearth will melt everything inside his. 

He puts smaller packages inside my stocking, embroidered with my name in English and in Russian, in Cyrillic. His is the same. The woman who made them, the grandmother of a drinking buddy, asked information about us both. And she's embroidered things on our stockings that are parts of our lives. Bosco adorns both, as well as tools, but where I have a hammer and saw, Alex's has a wrench and pliers, and we both have an abundance of food on it, especially my favorite peaches and his chocolate. I have plenty of them hidden in the work shed for him on Christmas day. They're safe out there in the cold. 

"Alex, is this what you did yesterday?" I ask, as he takes the boxes to the recycle bin in the back. He cuts them apart and just smiles. He isn't going to answer me. "OK, fine, I have to start cooking anyway. We've been invited to Christmas dinner at the family center. They wanted to know if we can spend the day. I said yes, but if you don't want to..." 

"No, it's OK. We'll be there together. I know you like to stay with the kids." His smile is sweet. I don't care how many times he tells me to fuck off, my Alex is sweet. He massages my feet or my back when the cold creeps in. He rubs my temples when I have a headache, like I do for him, in lieu of medicine. His smile makes my insides water. It takes years off his face, with his even white teeth, and the wrinkle above his nose are sights that make me weak. His eyes wrinkle and you can see the scar in his left eyebrow clearer, but it just serves to make him more handsome. I love this man. 

I nod and start dinner. When I was married, Sharon would go to her sister Maria's house and Maria is a better cook than either Sharon was or I ever hoped to be. Alex...well, let's not discuss him. He's good with little stuff, but Maria is a master chef at her own restaurant in Manhattan. She sent me recipes for the seven fishes dinner on Christmas Eve. I can't make all that food for just to two of us, but we're having antipasto, salad, linguine with white clam sauce, lobster tails, lemon fried shrimp, filet of flounder, and stuffed clams. Alex thinks it'll be great. He's never done something like this. He'll even let me say grace. 

* * *

**AFTER DINNER**

Alex and I just finished the dishes and we're laying on the couch, staring at the tree. I pulled the faux fur rug from the bedroom hearth to lay in front of it. It looks nice there. Alex moves to lie across my chest and groans. "We ate too much. I think the Christmas pudding was WAY too much." 

"It's not Christmas without it. Momma used to make that for Dad every year. She's still with me when I make it." I get the warm tingle when I think of Momma. I slip my arms around Alex and begin working on his neck with my lips and teeth. We'd had glasses of 20-year-old cognac after eating and it was warming my belly, and my loins. He lolls his head to the side as I lick and nip, careful not to mark him. He doesn't wear turtlenecks and we have to spend the day with children tomorrow. 

He moves and look into my eyes. "Vlad, take me to the floor and make love with me." 

I need no further prompting and quickly land on the rug with him on my chest. Yet, this isn't what he wants. He rolls me on top of him and spreads his arms wide, as well as his legs. He wants to be taken. I dispense with his socks, jeans and shirt, then his thermals and I find him bare-assed. And a sweet ass it is. His neck leads me to his nipples and I make them stand for me. His breath is picking up. As I make my way down his belly, I start slipping out of my own clothes. His hips are moving, tensed, waiting for me to suck him. I move right past his cock to his balls and take one then the other in my mouth. 

This is one of the things no one had done to him. He'd had blowjobs, but no one took the time to lick and suck and worship his balls the way I do. The hair is thin and downy, and he is delicious. He knows what I want. He starts lifting his legs, but I push them the rest of the way. He takes his hint and grabs them under his knees. He is open for me and I waste no time. His hole is tight and hot and flutters under my tongue. He tastes like ambrosia to me. I lick each wrinkle until he relaxes enough to let me in. More nectar of the gods. I push inside him as deeply as I can go and his wail of pleasure brings a smile to my mouth around his hole. 

"Enough, get up here and fuck me." He reaches into the pile of presents and hands me the Astroglide. 

"You sneaky fucker, you put that there!" I accuse. "You were planning this?" 

"I didn't put our fuck-rug here, did I?" His smirk is pure irreverence. He's right. I quickly lube myself and reach for him. "No, I'm ready, Vlad, just go." 

I need no further encouragement and slide in gently. Oh, hot and tight, I love his ass. This is better than making love to any other person ever. He looks at me with pure love and worship. I am his lifeline, he is my world. I move slowly. His legs wrap around my waist and he sets the pace, pulling and grinding. It's a dance, of sex and love, passion and pleasure. Our mouths meet and we're smiling into each kiss. It's become fun tonight, we're having each other and we're just enjoying each other's bodies. My hands stray over his chest and sides, pulling his nipple ring and he pulls mine. I am having the time of my life. 

* * *

Walter moves inside me not too slow and not too fast. This can last all night, the way he's just sliding in and out. It can't last forever though, and I feel him hit my prostate. It'll be all over for me soon and he won't even need to touch my cock. And as soon as I start coming, he'll come because he doesn't last when I start spasming on his cock. Oh, yes, he's picking up speed. Yes, like that, and I am gone! 

We move together, crying each other's names, thumping against the floor. The dog trots in as we collapse and arms tighten about each other. He lies against our sides, and snuggles into us. He never does this, though. He always respects our lovemaking. I guess tonight it's special. We both stroke him. He needs attention tonight. 

"Hey, the floor is getting cold. Let's get dressed, open the gifts and go to bed," I suggest. 

"No, we have to open the gifts tomorrow, Sasha," he says, still inside me, smiling contentedly. 

"We're getting up early to serve breakfast. We'll be there at like 6:30. We'll be there all day. I can't have anything?" 

I know I'm whining, but I can't help it. I want my gifts. This is my first real Christmas at forty-something years old. Yeah, I don't even know how old I really am. It doesn't matter anymore. He smiles at me, and I love his smile. His dimples show themselves and his teeth make a rare appearance. "You can have your stocking. But that's it." 

I know I can't keep the huge smile off my face. He hands me mine and he takes his. Wrapping paper is flying everywhere from my frenzied hands as I reveal...DVDs! Oh, shit, the Grinch, Rudolph, Charlie Brown, oh my God! He remembered. We can watch these now whenever we want, now. I can, anyway. And he got me chocolate flavored lube, the freak that he is. Then again, I got him peach. There's a velvet box, as well. I don't know why, but my hands shake as I open it. I'm not expecting the chain with the gold charm on it. It's the letter A in a lovely Gothic script. More tears escape my eyes as he moves to fasten it around my neck. 

"Vlad, thank you. This is...it's too much," I start to say, but he shushes me with a kiss. I notice he hasn't gotten to his gifts. "Well, your stocking is full, too!" 

He smiles and starts his gifts. He opens the CDs I got for him, Son Seals, Judy Henske and the old standby, Muddy Waters. I'm trying with him, and he's coming along like a true student. He's loving the blues like he was born to them. Maybe I'll get him some Albert Collins next. He opens the book on basic conversational Russian, and smiles. We can talk privately in front of assholes, soon. He'd said he had an affinity for languages when he was younger. Then he sees the velvet box I put in there. He looks at me dubiously. I don't give anything away. 

He opens it and sees the thick gold bracelet. He doesn't wear any jewelry except the nipple ring which is gold, but he has these amazing hands and Kelly said the bracelet would accent them nicely. I hurry to help him with it. "Oh, Sasha, this is too much. You can't...and all these boxes...look..." 

"Vlad...I love you. This means a lot to me. We can open those tomorrow when we get home. Let's go to bed, OK?" I get another kiss and we start closing the house to settle for bed. 

* * *

**CHRISTMAS NIGHT**

Alex and I barely make it into the cabin before collapsing on the couch. Bosco looks up then settles back on his rug. What a day we had. We helped make breakfast and serve, barely getting time to eat before clean up. Then we help distribute presents to the families, especially toys to the kids. Alex spent the better part of the day putting toys together, playing board games, reading to kids and being a general babysitter. I spent the day talking to the adults, working with them to put resumes together, help with job searches and advice on vocational skills. It was difficult, to say the least. 

So many families needing money and homes, just hit a bad patch and skidded so far they couldn't stop themselves. The Family Center was created to help keep children from entering the horror known as the foster care system. Families live there and stay together. Kids and parents all get educations and can make it back into the world and take care of themselves. These folks really want to. 

After all that, I look over at that pile of presents Alex got for me. I do not have the strength to open them. Nor the will. After all I've seen today, I have no right to have all of that. 

"Vlad, we have presents to open, you know." 

"No, Sasha, I'm too tired. Tomorrow, ok?" He nods to me. He's exhausted as well. And whereas I didn't get him nearly what he got me, he doesn't seem as excited as he was last night. We do a quick lockdown and head to bed. 

As he lies in my arms, I kiss his head. "Sasha, I don't deserve all of those gifts." 

"I know." 

"What?" He snickers as I do. 

"I know how you feel after today. I mean, I got you things that I know you don't need. One or two you may. Lemme guess, same as you." 

"Yeah. How about we keep the two things we each need and give the rest to the shelter?" 

I feel him smile on my skin. "Yeah, and we can get Kelly to send some women's and children's things there as well." 

"Yeah. Goodnight, Sasha. Merry Christmas." 

"Merry Christmas, Vlad. I love you." 

"Love you back." 

I feel the bed move as Bosco gets on the bed and the three of us drift off to sleep. 

The End  
Happy Holidays!  
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